. . . and on her head, she has a LEAF!

That came into my head earlier on when I was hoiking out a box of paperwork which lurks, out of side, on the bottom shelf of the little shallow wall table which is at the far end of the sofa.  Something was poking out from beneath it, and I know the girls have been pursuing meeces (well, bank voles and shrews normally) under the sofa so my first thought was, "Oh drat, a mouse's tail . . ." Cautiously I drew it out - to find a dessicated Sycamore leaf which had come in from outside with a mouthful of mouse.  The title comes from when us four childhood friends were all about 12 - me, Trish, Rosie and Big Lin (height, not waistline!) - were having a "fashion show" in Rosie's bedroom.  It was Big Lin who said it and we were in hysterics.  Gosh, SUCH a long long time ago now . . . Rosie, this will bring back memories for you, that's for sure . . .

Tam, Rosie and I did a little walk up through the grounds of the Big House, and then up the snowy hill to the pine tree where the Red Kite perches.  We had to be careful not to tread in any tyre tracks as those had impacted into ice, but it was fine anywhere else and some of the lane had thawed. This was the view across to the hills between Rhayader and Llandod.

Snow-pencilled branches.

Tam and Rosie, who was snuggled up in a Merino wool wrap.

In the grounds of the Big House.  As you can see, not a great deal of snow, but enough to be worrying when it was falling.  It's thawed on the slopes today and is just on the colder hill tops now.

Hazel catkins already set . . .

I have been feeling better today and made a pan of Minestrone soup, another loaf (half and half with Wholemeal flour) and stewed up some apples.

I have also been on the phone a lot, sorting out a Council Tax Payment (not going on Direct Debit until the next financial year), ordering a replacement recycyling bin (plastics), and making enquiries as to WHY the Land Registry has gotten in touch with us to let us know that someone has put in an Application on Tycelyn . . .  My first thought was that the people who used to live here had done something sneaky as they were, shall we say, possessing of A Reputation in these parts.  It transpires out that it was something closer to home and a case of the drawing of a piece of retained land someone is trying to tie in with their property and a boundary line has just crossed into ours.  It will be confirmed tomorrow as I have spoken to the person concerned.  All I can say is, I was very relieved that Tam had set it up that we are contacted by the Land Registry if any application or similar involves our property.  For all we know, the Dodgy People could have put in for planning permission and the first we would know of it is when a digger arrived!  As we have the two triangles of land either end of our garden (plus the half an acre of woodland), it is possible.

So, that took up a good bit of the day, but we have still had lots of fun with Rosie, who has now, at not quite 8 mths, decided that crawling is for babies and clever babies go straight to stand and walk!  She has been pulling herself up on my coffee tables and has had a lovely game with the coasters on the small one (which have to be chomped!) and now everything on the table tops had had to be removed or put out of reach!  Tam said, goodness, that's a whole new ball game that she didn't expect to be happening for a good while yet!  

We have been binge watching Our Farm Next Door, which is about the derelict farmhouse that the Yorkshire Shepherdess (Amanda Owen) is doing up, along with her family and husband Clive, who she is now estranged from (well, in the bedroom anyway).  They are doing everything the proper way with lime mortar and plaster and the original HUGE (I am talking shaped and graded paving slabs here) stone slabbed roof.  30 tons and more of it!  She will be having an old fashioned range in too, I think.  Can't wait to see the finished home.

Right, this won't do.  Tam's trying to get Rosie off to sleep - trying to wrestle her into her sleeping bag was bad enough, but then she was crawling all round the bed!

A Snow Day

 

The view from Tam's bedroom, through a hastily-wiped window.  The wooden shutters certainly help keep the warm room but do nothing for condensation. This is the view roughly North-West.

This is looking towards the quarry, hidden behind the snow.

This is what it did all day yesterday, but fortunately didn't lie on the track and roads.  I normally love snow, but I was worried about getting my prescription an worried about Tam & Rosie managing to get here safely, although she said by the time she set off after lunch, the A44 through the mountains was fine.

Fresh Bread!

So, I am started on a 3 day course of Selexid, and let's hope this helps whilst I am waiting to receive the infection-appropriate course I should be on.  

Nothing exciting is happening - I just have to rest up and hopefully soon feel better.  

I managed to "rug up" the roses in planters yesterday, using the last of the compost here, so they had a good layer of mulch over their roots.  Tess of the D'Urbervilles has only just recovered to grow a couple more stems after being hit so hard by a very hard frost last year.  

Tam is proposing a walk after breakfast, "before it all melts" so we will do that.  Keep warm.

Grounded!

 Well, I shall not be gracing Hereford Hospital with my presence today, as after a ghastly night (awake 3 hours AGAIN) and trotting to the loo every 1 1/2 - 2 hours, I have woken up with a kidney infection an believe me, I am driving nowhere further than Boots the Chemists today. I feel like I've been kicked by a mule.  Plus, it has just started snowing steadily here, so Tam may be staying put too . . .

Yesterday morning I thought it was an oversight to tell me to wait without any antibiotics for the 2 - 3 days it would take the sample to "brew".  Turns out I was right, and now I am wasting a hospital appointment that could have been used by someone else.  

Don't worry, I have good neighbours and a the moment the snow isn't laying on the yard so local roads should be ok for a while yet.

Finally - gone 5 p.m. - I have a short course of antibiotics.  Two to be taken at once, with a meal, so just heating up some mince I cooked earlier.  Nothing exciting as I wasn't feeling up to much.  I have been waiting ALL day for the script, having gone down to the surgery at 9 a.m. this morning after no-one picking up the phone.  A bit of snow, and everyone suddenly decides they need to see a GP.  We won't be going anywhere tomorrow (Tam and Rosie here now) as the roads are wet and will soon be an ice slick.  Good not to be on my own here.  What would I do without my family?

P.S. It really doesn't take much snow to upset the applecart here as only the main roads are gritted, and snow is a fairly rare occurrence (even rarer this early when it's not officially winter yet).  The side roads will freeze to slick ice overnight and then it's a 4x4 job to get anywhere.  We've had perhaps an inch or two of snow, pretty to look at, but more on its way apparently.

Back to square one

Photo from a couple of years ago, on a Bluebell Walk just outside of Crickhowell.

 . . . with the UTI, which after two days without antibiotics, has returned.  I have taken a sample down to the surgery, reported symptoms have returned and requested more antibiotics.  Obviously a week was not long enough.  I am now waiting for a phone call. Update: tested in house and it has white blood cells in it so has been sent off to the lab to be cultured and then perhaps I will get anti-biotics that work.

In case I feel worse, I've done the grocery shopping for the week, and this also covers in case it snows -as snow is forecast. That would be very early for snow in Wales.  I've also done the recycling and put that at the end of the lane.  I got a few Christmas things when shopping and a pair of soft fleecy trousers which were in the pyjama section, as I want something warm and loose to wear at the moment in place of stretchy jeans.

Another Christmas present has arrived to give to one of my family, and a present for ME - The Mystery of Mercia by Hugh Williams, which looks really interesting.  I will be reading the chapter Twilight of the Cunning Folk first.

I put the side borders on Gabby's quilt top yesterday.  Not an ideal colour combination - I chose it before I received the jelly roll of fabrics - but it is very much Gabby's colourway.  

I am now going to rest up and listen to The Valley of Horses on Audible.  

Wrestling with my emotions today

 Not my best day - I felt wonderful yesterday, really happy and satisfied and full of energy - just as I used to be.  However, today was not a repeat and I woke up feeling jaded and haven't been in the mood to do anything much.  My tired brain was back in evidence.

I went down to get the Saturday paper, and popped up to see my friend Pam, as I'd not seen her for a couple of weeks. 

I have sewed the last three rows on the zigzag blocks part of Gabby's quilt, and also finally washed the material I bought for the side strips and backing. That's now drying on the rack in the Utility.

I wanted to watch racing this afternoon, but that upset me at first as Keith and I always watched the racing together.  That was today's crying session.  It was the Cheltenham meeting and I had two winners (in my head that is), but even if I had wanted to put a bet on, I'd have been a day too late as it was a recorded programme.  Don't now how to get it live any more as I don't have a programmes listing like I used to have with Sky, I have to go into the individual channel and do a search, which is incredibly slow and laborious.

I have started reading (again) Phil Rickman's The Magus of Hay and as Keith and I knew Hay SO well, I can picture his descriptions in my minds' eye and know exactly which places he's talking about.  From memory, it gets quite dark and scary later on . . .

I have in my mind to write a story about the Murder of Peggy Ffrydiau (up on the Epynt), now I have all the details.  It might be watch this space for a while though . . .

Next week we apparently have snow heading our way.  That's very early . . .  Can do without that especially as it will stop Tam and Rosie visiting.

I ordered Gabby an alternative present in case I don't get the quilt finished in time . . .

Lastly, annoyed to have an email from the Ebay seller I bought a gift for Danny from, as I was expecting it to be delivered today - as per their last email.  However, "Your parcel from Darkwear UK Ltd has reached your local delivery office. We've received a request not to deliver mail to the property your item is addressed to today. We'll attempt delivery as per the instructions we've received, which is usually on the next working day."  Well, I shan't be buying from THEM again.  Don't like being lied to.

Wrestling with a bear at Llandovery Fair . . .

"It was Fair Day in Llandovery and the streets were crowded with livestock and buyers.  As he strolled into the Fair, he could already see friends and neighbours looking at livestock, whilst a striking bay colt was being run out for his friend Thomas Rees, who was looking to replace an ageing stallion of his.  It flung its legs out like pistons and the lad running it up had to pull its head toward him to stop it cantering.  Will knew it was certainly an eye-catcher but would it manage on the poor grazing up on the Epynt come wintertime.  That was what mattered.

Nancy-stockings had her stall busy with customers, and there were the usual cottage industries of ladder making, net making, basket making selling their wares, and stalls selling haberdashery and fripperies.  He noticed his neighbour's new house servant trying on hats, trying to choose between those bedecked with ribbons or feathers.  He imagined, as she hadn't been at her placement long, she had asked for an advance on her salary and if she bought hats like that, there wouldn't be much left come pay day.  

The usual hucksters were there, downwind of the throng of cattle, sheep and horses in the street, including a snake oil salesman who was doing a thriving trade with his bottles of never-suffer-again cure-all ointment.  Where the street widened he could see a booth which was attracting a lot of attention.  As he drew closer, hands in pockets, he could see a shabby looking bear and a showman whose sharp clothing and cocked hat spoke of his confidence and successful business.  A large ungainly brown bear was displayed behind bars, and a sign read "Prize of ONE POUND to anyone who can spend just FIVE minutes with the bear." No-one was ready to try his luck though - if they so much as drew near, the bear would open its mouth and lick his lips with a long red tongue, as if its appetite had been whetted by the smell of potential customers . . .

Will Morgan was known for his strength.  He regularly hired himself at betingo time, using a breast plough to clear the top layer of turf from fallow fields before they were ploughed.  He had easily won a bet of carrying a huge branch from an oak tree which had fallen and blocked the road.  He offered to carry it from the scene down to the village, and a betting book was started.  He won his money easily, yet when the log was cut up and weighed, it was found to have been 10 hundredweight (half a TON).

Will Morgan KNEW his strength.  He knew that the £1 was money in his pocket from the moment he read the sign.  He stepped up.  Knowing looks were passed by those who knew him - or knew of him - as he stepped into the ring.  Not content just to stand near the animal though, he moved closer and he began to wrestle with it.  A roar went up amongst the spectators, and the crowd soon thickened with those eager to see the outcome of this particular wrestling match.  

The bear's fetid breath heated Will's face, as he leaned into it, getting a good grip on its pelt and manouevering it until he could grasp its tail with his right hand whilst his left arm was around its neck.  He could feel the low growls in its throat and it tried to turn its head to grasp his arm but he had the advantage of a grip which prevented this.  Slowly, he began to lift it off the ground.  The crowd roared even louder, and the puzzled bear struggled but could not free itself. Will pulled handfuls of mangy hair from the bear as he lifted it higher, with the Showman looking very worried, and starting to gabble about stopping before he got hurt!  Will laughed - he wasn't going to get hurt.  On the other hand, the odds weren't looking too good for the bear.  

His friends yelled, "Finish him off Will", and Will began a lap of honour, carrying the bear around the ring.  He stopped and shifted his weight to get a better hold, before putting his knee against the backbone of the bear and starting to pull it back towards him.  The crowd went WILD, the Showman became hysterical, pleading with him to stop - for he could see his livelihood about to become a rug rather than a meal-ticket.  Will pulled harder, the bear struggling for all it was worth, and the sound of cracking bones made the Showman almost apoplectic.

Will shouted to the Showman, "Give me £10 or I'll kill him."  The Showman screamed that he would, but just let his bear go.  Will dropped the bear in a heap and left the ring, with the bear prostate on the ground, red tongue lolling from its mouth and looking for all the world like that last shriek from the Showman had been too late.  Ten pounds was paid out, and Will was mobbed by his friends, who had never had such fun in all their lives.  It took the bear over an hour to recover its wits and clamber to its feet.

Two weeks later, it was Brecon Fair.  Once again, the Showman and his Fierce Bear offered brave men £1 for spending five minutes in its company.  Will made a point of heading straight towards this sideshow, but the bear, suddenly noticing his deadly enemy, became hysterical with fright and the Showman quickly gave Will another £5 just to keep away from it . . ."

Oh I have enjoyed writing that!  First bit of creative writing for years now.  In fact, I feel like my old self today.  I enjoyed going to the Library today and getting "Epynt Without People" by Ronald Davies, from the Locked Stack and doing some research.  The details for this story are all true, Will Morgan DID wrestle with the bear, and carry half a ton of oak log to the village.  The people of the Epynt seemed to be such a special group, everyone knew everyone, and they were all held together by a social cohesion which had lasted centuries until the MoD ended it in 1940 when it cleared them all from the land.  Even as an English incomer I  cannot forgive the MoD for that - you can imagine the distress the farmers felt and yet they all managed to find other farms to carry on their life's work, although some of them were far away in Carmarthenshire and they must have felt a dreadful Hiraeth (deep longing) for their homeland forever.

Have a good weekend, all.  

Trench art for Tracy

 Tracy, you mentioned yesterday that you collected Trench Art.   This little piece (unique? never seen another like it) was on my friend Simon's stall a few years back, at Malvern.  I picked it up to look at it more closely, and burst into tears - it was imbued with sadness and loss and I can only assume that whoever made it for their mum, wife or sweetheart, never returned from the war.  Each time I pick it up, I have a rush of emotion again.  I assume it shows the little (bedroom?) fireplace of a Victorian house and that the recipient recognized it immediately.  This sense is officially called Psychometry or ESP or being clairsentient.  It's something that I can only channel when I am relaxed and open.  Feel free to pooh-pooh this skill - it does seem something impossible to do, but it has happened to me is all I can say. I am an empath, so perhaps that has something to do with it.

For folk who have not come across Trench Art before - these are pieces made from the brass shell cases or scraps of aluminium of WWI and WWII.  In their time off, soldiers would work on turning them into useful objects to take home to their family.  Even Keith made 3 of them with the bases of shell cases and an Arabian coin in the centre so our kids will have one each. The link is to the Imperial War Museum and shows a selection of items.  What turns up most are the shell cases with sgraffito designs on, repousse work etc.  UK Ebay will show dozens of examples.

Many thanks to Julia in Texas who showed the photos I put up of the German photo album and mini medals yesterday to her son (who collects militaria) and he noted that the pilot had earned an Iron Cross in both the First and Second World Wars, alongside other military honours and also reckoned it was highly collectable and quite valuable.  A bit too valuable for my little stall anyway so I shall have to find a specialist Military auction for it.

Today I have managed to change my bed and put the duck down duvet on the bed (though that was a struggle!)  I should be nice and warm tonight.  I even ironed the bed linen first.

I have unpicked and resewn in the proper layout, two more blocks in Gabby's quilt, and with a heavy heart taken my stitch-ripper to the 3 rows of blocks I sewed together a couple of weeks ago - the wrong way up . . .  The colour balance demanded I started over.  So I sat and watched the 2nd episode of Phil Rickman's Midwinter of the Spirit, the only tv dramatisation of any of his books.  In daylight, not too spooky!

I also felt up to making a meal tonight, so set to and chopped up onions and garlic, added a good tin of cherry tomatoes and browned meatballs to go into it.  I had it with pasta and veg and it was very filling.  I have put the other half in the freezer.

Now I shall put my electric blanket on and settle down for the evening.